


Rescue

by Nilaza



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Blood, Happy Ending, M/M, Piett gets his boyfriend out of a jam, Torture, Veers is captured, and beat up, graphic description of knife torture, grapic description of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-15 00:21:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11219316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nilaza/pseuds/Nilaza
Summary: General Veers gets captured on a campain, and Admiral Piett leads the rescue party to get his favourite groundpounder back. Drabble.





	Rescue

General Veers used all of Admiral Piett’s favourite swearwords about himself. He did not make it to General by being this kriffin’ stupid. But here he was, tied to a chair, his arms and legs were burning from being in the same position for hours, his bare chest felt cold, and a large, boot-shaped bruise marred it. He had no idea where he was, this blasted room had a window just beneath the ceiling showing a grey sky, and a single, coverless light bulb lit the room that was bare, save from a table and his chair. He had been out cold when they transported him here, and woke up with a stiff neck and back, and tied on hands and feet.

He could practically hear how Piett would growl at him for having ended up in this jam. If he ever saw the shrimp again, that was.

Veers took a few deep breaths to relax and think, it was not the first jam he had ended up in, he didn’t become a general by being a pushover, either. The room was cold, but only enough to be uncomfortable, not dangerously so. The door was durasteel, doubtlessly sealed, and the knots he was tied with were professionally done, he had tried them. The rebels had taken him prisoner, and not just killed him, which meant he was probably not going to be left to rot, maybe he could overpower his captors.

As if on cue, the door opened and his captor entered; he was human, muscled, but not as much as Veers himself, not as tall either, and his unassuming face had a hard look. Veers regarded him with the stony expression that adorned his holoposters.

“General Veers,” the man said, “not as hard to capture as I imagined. I wonder if your reputation is pure imp propaganda.”

“Blasted rebel scum,” Veers cursed at him. “You need only ask your criminal friends if my reputation is warranted.”

“I am no rebel,” the man interrupted, “I am a mercenary, and the rebels will pay me handsomely for the butcher of Hoth.” The man closed the door, and produced a knife from his belt, “I agreed to deliver you ready to sing.”

“Sing?” he regarded the mercenary, “don’t count on me spitting anything.” _The butcher of Hoth? Wonder what they call the pilot who took down the Death Star with all its one million crewmembers on board. Probably a hero. Scum. ___

__“They all say that,” the mercenary said in a bored tone, before he walked around Veers, who turned his head to keep him in sight._ _

__Without warning, the mercenary punched Veers’ cheek hard enough to whip his head to the side, and leave him disoriented for a moment, then he followed up with a punch to the other cheek._ _

__Veers was only disorientated for a few moments, before he headbutted him in return, producing a satisfying “oof” and a breathless curse from the mercenary._ _

__The mercenary grabbed Veers hair, and a combat knife appeared far too close to his eye for comfort. “Do that again, and I’ll gouge your eye out,” he said, glaring into Veers’ eyes. _If you think your glare will make me shit myself, you’ve got another thing coming, your glare doesn’t hold a candle to Firmus’ _.___ _

____ _ _

____Veers looked at the other man with a cool expression, not betraying the unease beneath. The knife bit into the skin on his cheekbone, and Veers grit his teeth as he felt a few drops of blood flow from the wound, before the knife was withdrawn._ _ _ _

____The mercenary walked to stand in front of him, and hit him again, this time Veers tasted blood when a fist connected to his jaw._ _ _ _

____Veers spat the blood out and turned his head to glare silently at the other man. He was getting dizzy, and unfocused, and his jaw hurt like hell._ _ _ _

____Next, the mercenary grabbed his neck to push him back against the backrest, while circling the knife around Veers nipple, before dragging a gash from the nipple across his ab and to his collarbone. Veers grit his teeth against the pain. The wound bled, but not dangerously much. Then the man flicked his knife and cut a deeper wound in his chest._ _ _ _

____Tendrils of hot pain shot through Veers, and he groaned. It bled and throbbed in tandem with his heartbeats._ _ _ _

____Before Veers could do anything, the mercenary turned the knife in his hands and let it slide across his collarbone, the edge biting into the skin just a bit, before he nicked a patch of skin off around the size of a finger._ _ _ _

____This time, Veers yelled in pain, a string of curses, which the mercenary cut off by a punch to his guts, driving the air out of him._ _ _ _

____Wheezing and gritting his teeth against the throbbing pain, Veers heard the man chuckle_ _ _ _

____“Not as high and mighty now, huh imp boy?”_ _ _ _

____Veers glared at him as best he could while still fighting to catch his breath. “Go to hell,” he managed._ _ _ _

____The man struck him again, braking Veers nose with a sickening snap, sending new sparks of pain through him, sharp and pulsing. The punch was powerful enough to whip his head backwards, making his neck complain. His nose hurt with a sharp, burning sensation, and he felt blood trickled from it down his chin, some of it floated into his mouth and he spat out._ _ _ _

____“I agreed to deliver you alive,” the mercenary’s voice was cold, detached, “but do you know how much skin a human can lose while remaining alive? I don't, but I'm curious.”_ _ _ _

____Veers was not scared of pain, nor death, but there was something about the flat, almost uninterested tone, that turned him cold. “I am general Veers of death squadron, they are looking for me, your only chance is to let me go, and maybe I'll forget your face.” He spoke calmly, though a bit breathlessly, staring hard at the man._ _ _ _

____They would search for him, of course, up to a point, after which he'd be written off as lost in combat. Piett would search for him too, he’d be relentless until ordered to stop and focus on his duties. Veers told himself to get a grip, he hadn't been captured long, there was still time, unless the mercenary’s sadistic tendencies killed him first._ _ _ _

____The mercenary didn't bother replying, maybe he called his bluff about forgetting about him. Instead he grabbed his knife again, and drove it carefully under Veers’ skin just beneath the abs, expertly peeling skin away. Veers cried out, and bucked against his restrains, the knife cut upwards, opening his skin further, and he yelled, closing his eyes and breathing hard, trying not to yell out again._ _ _ _

____The mercenary stepped back, removing the knife, and regarded Veers coolly. Veers wheezed for a couple of moments, until the pain had subsided somewhat. The mercenary kicked his ribs hard, making the chair scrape a few inches backwards on the floor, and knocking the air out of Veers’ lungs again._ _ _ _

____His ribs hurt as he breathed, his head hurt too, the numerous cut he had subsided arched, and he bloody hoped Piett or his men, or anyone would hurry up and get him the hell out of here. He turned his head to the mercenary who had walked to the table. He put down the knife, and picked up a drill, of all things._ _ _ _

____The moment the mercenary turned back to him with an expectant glint in his eyes that curled Veers’ stomach, he heard the unmistakable voice of Admiral Piett outside the door. “Get this bloody door open, for kriff’s sake!” the admiral ordered._ _ _ _

____Veers heart leapt in his chest, and he turned his head towards the door. The mercenary walked briskly towards Veers, “I have a hos-!” he yelled._ _ _ _

____The door exploded before he could finish, momentarily deafening them both, and the blast send both Veers and his captor flying. The back of the chair hit the wall first, crushing his hands between it and the wall, his head went next, and the world went black for a moment. Dizzy from the blow, through foggy eyes, Veers saw Piett storm in, leading a complement of stormtroopers. Piett’s blaster was raised, and the look on his face send a shiver down Veers’ spine, even in his groggy state. Piett aimed at the out-cold mercenary and put a blaster bolt to his head, effectively killing him before issuing orders to his troopers._ _ _ _

____Veers couldn't remember ever having been so happy to see the pint-sized sailor as he was in that moment. “…oh, sailor, thank the stars” he muttered groggily._ _ _ _

____Piett put his blaster in his belt as the troopers scurried to obey his orders, and walked briskly to Veers, “General!” he knelt beside Veers, pulling out a pocket knife to cut his binds._ _ _ _

____“Noth – nothing serious sir,” Veers said, holding still as Piett quickly freed his hands from the bonds, and produced a handkerchief to stop the blood from his broken nose._ _ _ _

____Veers moved gingerly, grimacing at the pain that seemed to come from his every limb._ _ _ _

____Piett freed his legs next, “Hold still,” he ordered, receiving a med kit from one of the troopers, before he ordered them to stand guard outside._ _ _ _

____“Firmus..” Veers said unsteadily, blinking his eyes, trying to focus._ _ _ _

____“Yes, you have been seriously injured,” Piett said, carefully supporting him to a seated position against the wall. “Now hold still,” he added more sternly. Piett wiped the blood off his nose and chin, and switched the handkerchief with an actual bacta patch, stopping the nosebleed at once. Then he began tending to Veers’ other injuries._ _ _ _

____Veers held still as Piett cleaned one of the wounds on his chest, and smiled groggily at him, “Thank – thank you for the rescue.”_ _ _ _

____“Max, you idiot!” Piett growled, glaring at him, but his hands were steady as he cleaned and applied a bacta patch to the wound. “What in the nine hells were you thinking?!”_ _ _ _

____Veers’ smile faltered, and turned into a grimace as Piett turned to another wound, “I was thinking of our campaign,” he said, his fingers were a bit shaky when he reached out to touch Piett, just to feel him. “... I knew I took a risk,” he said quietly._ _ _ _

____Piett glared icily at Veers, who pulled back his hand as if the shoulder he touched had burned him. “You didn’t become General by wagering needlessly with your life, you groundpounding berk!” Piett barked, “I ought to kill you myself for this, you –“ he cut off his own swearing to pull Veers into a teeth-clattering, breath-stealing kiss, throwing his arms around him._ _ _ _

____Veers could feel Piett’s heartbeat through the synthwool; it was beating like he had been sprinting, and Veers pulled him closer, leaning his head on his bony shoulder, and embracing him tightly. Veers ignored his hurting ribs, and took in Piett’s scent of standard-issue aftershave and caff. He simply enjoyed the feel of Piett’s body against his as he pulled him halfway into his lap. “Won’t happen again, sailor,” he rumbled gently._ _ _ _

____“No it won't! 'Cause I'll demote you to fresher cleaner next time you don't bring your brains to a fight!” no less bite in Piett's voice than before, but he squeezed him harder._ _ _ _

____Veers grimaced from the pressure on his ribs, his head and nose were burning, his legs and chest were hurting too, but he couldn't help smiling. A warm feeling spread in him as he sat there with Piett in his arms, running a hand along his back. “Maybe I just knew you’d come to my aid?”_ _ _ _

____“That's no excuse, you git!” Piett rumbled, but a considerable bit of affection had sneaked into his voice this time._ _ _ _

____Veers’ warm smiled widened, but before he could say anything, Piett changed the subject, pulling back from the hug._ _ _ _

____“We should leave this shithole,” he said, all business face again, “can you stand?”_ _ _ _

____Veers supported his weight halfway on Piett, and halfway on the wall, swaying on burning legs when he put his weight on them, and closing his eyes for a moment, breathing slowly until the room stopped spinning._ _ _ _

____When he was sure Veers would not fall over, Piett took the blaster from his belt, “We have dealt with every mercenary we saw, but stay behind me.”_ _ _ _


End file.
